“It’s worse than that,” Bachfisch said with a small headshake. “She’s from downtown Landing, and I don’t think she and her family spent more than a day or two all told in the bush when she was a kid.” He shrugged. “She never learned to handle a gun before the Academy, and she’s never actually needed one in the line of duty since. That’s what Marines are for.”

“Sergeant Tausig mentioned to me that Ms. Harrington seemed quite competent in that regard,” Layson observed in a carefully uninflected tone.

“Good,” Bachfisch said. “Of course, her family has a nice little freeholding in the Copper Wall Mountains. That’s hexapuma country, and I imagine she grew up packing a gun whenever she went for a hike. Actually, I think she did quite well. At least she kept her lunch down while they recovered and bagged the bodies.”

Layson managed to keep his eyebrows from rising. He’d known Harrington was from Sphinx, of course, but he hadn’t known she was from the Copper Walls, so how did the Captain know? He looked at Bachfisch for a moment, then drew a deep breath.

“Excuse me, Sir. I realize it’s not really any of my business, but I know you must have had a reason for specifically requesting that Ms. Harrington be assigned to us for her snotty cruise.”

The sentence was a statement that was also a question, and Bachfisch leaned back in his chair and gazed steadily at his executive officer.

“You’re right, I did,” he said after a thoughtful pause. “Are you by any chance familiar with Captain Raoul Courvosier, Abner?”

“Captain Courvosier?” Layson’s brow furrowed. “Oh, of course. He’s the head of the Saganami Tactical Department, isn’t he?”

“At the moment,” Bachfisch said. “The grapevine says he’s up for rear admiral on the current list. They’re going to jump him right past commodore, and they’ll probably drag him over to head the War College as soon as they do.”

“I knew he had a good rep, Sir, but is he really that good?” Layson asked in considerable surprise. It was unusual, to say the least, for the RMN to jump an officer two grades in a single promotion, despite its current rate of expansion.

“He’s better than that,” Bachfisch said flatly. “In fact, he’s probably the finest tactician and one of the three best strategists I’ve ever had the honor to serve under.”

Abner Layson was more than simply surprised by that, particularly since that was precisely the way he would have described Captain Thomas Bachfisch.

“If Raoul had been born into a better family—or been even a little more willing to play the suck-up game—he would have had his commodore’s star years ago,” Bachfisch went on, unaware of his exec’s thoughts. “On the other hand, I imagine he’s done more good than a dozen commodores at the Academy. But when Raoul Courvosier tells me privately that one of his students has demonstrated in his opinion the potential to be the most outstanding officer of her generation and asks me to put her in my Snotty Row, I’m not about to turn him down. Besides, she’s about due for a little offsetting career boost.”

“I beg your pardon, Sir?” The question came out almost automatically, for Layson was still grappling with the completely unexpected endorsement of Honor Harrington’s capabilities. Of course, he’d been very favorably impressed by her himself, but the outstanding officer of her generation?

“I said she’s due for a career boost,” Bachfisch repeated, and snorted at the confused look Layson gave him. “What? You think I was stupid enough to ask for Elvis Santino for my OCTO? Give me a break, Abner!”

“But—” Layson began, then stopped and looked at Bachfisch narrowly. “I’d assumed,” he said very slowly, “that Santino was just a particularly obnoxious example of BuPers’ ability to pound square pegs into round holes. Are you saying he wasn’t, Sir?”

“I can’t prove it, but I wouldn’t bet against it. Oh, it could be innocent enough. That’s why I didn’t say anything about it to you ahead of time… and why I was so happy that he gave you ample grounds to bring the hammer down on him. The creep had it coming, whatever his motives may have been, but nobody who sees your report and the endorsements from Shelton and Flanagan could possibly question the fact that he was relieved for cause.”

“But why would anyone want to question it in the first place?”

“Did you ever happen to encounter Dimitri Young?”

This time, despite all he could do, Layson blinked in surprise at the complete non sequitur.

“Uh, no, Sir. I don’t believe I can place the name.”

“I’m not surprised, and you didn’t miss a thing,” Bachfisch said dryly. “He was considerably before your time, and he resigned about the time he made commander in order to pursue a political career when he inherited the title from his father.”

“Title?” Layson repeated cautiously.

“These days he’s the Earl of North Hollow, and from all I hear he’s just as big a loss as a human being as he ever was. What’s worse, he’s reproduced, and his oldest son, Pavel, was a class ahead of Harrington at Saganami.”

“Why do I think I’m not going to like this, Sir?”

“Because you have good instincts. It seems that Mr. Midshipman Young and Ms. Midshipwoman Harrington had a small… disagreement in the showers one night.”

“In the show—” Layson began sharply, then broke off. “My God,” he went on a moment later in a very different tone, “she must have kicked his ass up one side and down the other!”

“As a matter of fact, she did,” Bachfisch said, gazing speculatively at his exec.

“Damned straight she did,” Layson said with an evil chuckle. “Ms. Harrington works out full contact with Sergeant Tausig, Sir. And she gets through his guard upon occasion.”

“Does she?” Bachfisch smiled slowly. “Well, now. I suppose that does explain a few things, doesn’t it?” He gazed sightlessly at the bulkhead, smiling at something Layson could not see, for several seconds, then shook himself back to the present.

“At any rate,” he said more briskly, “Harrington sent him to the infirmary for some fairly serious repairs, and he never did manage to explain just what he was doing in the showers alone with her after hours that inspired her to kick the crap out of him. But neither did she, unfortunately, press charges against him. No,” he said, shaking his head before Layson could ask the question, “I don’t know why she didn’t, and I don’t know why Hartley couldn’t get her to do it. But she didn’t, and the little prick graduated with the rest of his class and went straight into the old-boy patronage system.”

“And cranked the same system around to wreck Harrington’s career.” There was no amusement in Layson’s voice this time, and Bachfisch nodded.

“That’s Raoul’s belief, anyway,” the captain said, “and I respect his instincts. Besides, unlike you I did know Young’s father, and I doubt very much that he’s improved with age. That’s one reason I have to wonder how we wound up saddled with Santino. North Hollow may not be Navy anymore, but he’s got one hell of a lot of clout in the House of Lords, and he sits on the Naval Affairs Committee. So if he does want to punish her for ‘humiliating’ his precious son, he’s in the perfect spot to do it.”

“I see, Sir.” Layson sat back in his chair, and his mind worked busily. There was even more going on here than he’d suspected might be the case, and he felt a brief uneasiness at the weight and caliber of the enemies his Captain appeared to be courting. But knowing Bachfisch as well as he did, he also understood perfectly. In many ways, there were actually two Royal Manticoran Navies: the one to which well-connected officers like Pavel Young and Elvis Santino belonged, where all that truly mattered was who was related to whom; and the one which produced officers like Thomas Bachfisch and—he hoped—Abner Layson, whose only claim to their rank was the fact that they put duty and responsibility before life itself. And just as the Navy of patronage and string-pullers looked after their own, so did the Navy of dedication and ability protect and nurture its own.